The twists of a mind,
the trysts of a kind.
The loss of your faith,
the dress of a wreath.
The sanctuary of vision,
the step out of prison.
The tacit and placid now,
the lone being asking how.
The hurt leaving behind,
the desire acquiring rewind.
The breath lost to the wind,
the hope we always pinned.
The outcome never written,
the senses always left bitten.
The pieces are so scattered,
the belief always shattered.
The formless comes with rain,
the twisted cycle starts again.
Peace and love !!!